


Running in Place

by SweetestHoney



Series: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, But does not get one, Coercion, I love him so much why am I so mean to him, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a fighter, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Sexual Coercion, Somehow less dark than the last one despite the tags, Sorry Not Sorry, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie) Spoilers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetestHoney/pseuds/SweetestHoney
Summary: Continuation of Restraint, but could definitely be read as a stand-alone. Peter is still Mysterio's prisoner, and he's very annoyed at the fact that he's looking forward to the next time the man fucks him. He's a superhero, damnit, he should be stronger than this.**CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR AVENGERS: ENDGAME AND SPIDERMAN: FAR FROM HOME**





	Running in Place

**Author's Note:**

> Someone please take my keyboard away from me, I seriously have actual things I need to do and I keep writing fic. Argh. I just really like torturing Peter Parker when I really think he needs a million hugs. This is more dub-con than non-con, but if you're not into either of those I'll say you should err on the side of caution.

Peter was screwed. Well, really, he’d been screwed for a while, but he was sure now. Super screwed. 

He may or may not be in lust with his enemy, captor, and all-around-kind-of-a-dick faux hero Mysterio. Quentin Beck. Who happened to have him captive, with little to no hope of rescue since his plan to deceive the world into thinking he was a new hero seemed to have worked. At least, nobody had come to Peter's rescue and while he wasn't quite sure how long he'd been a prisoner he knew it had been a while. The haze of apathy covering his thoughts testified to that.

Beck wasn't just content to torture him in the conventional methods and had gotten tired of those after a while. The first time he came to visit Peter personally, Peter didn't know what to expect. Whatever he may have anticipated was blown away when his 'enemy' fucked his brains out and made him come while begging for more. After that he'd been visited a couple more times, each as explosive as the last. Peter didn't know what to think. He hated that he was still imprisoned, and that Mysterio was out pretending to be a hero while doing a lot of probably Very Bad Things, but he also _wanted_ the man and couldn't stop his body reacting every time he showed up. 

Just thinking about the last time had Peter wriggling. He willed his body not to become aroused as he remembered the feeling of Beck's nails digging into the sensitive skin at his hips when the man pressed into him. Too late. Peter rolled his eyes at himself and tried to shift a little, but it did nothing. He was still restrained at wrists and ankles with seemingly unbreakable straps - he couldn't move the rest of his body more than an inch in any given direction. And there was no way he could get any kind of friction on himself with his legs firmly flat out and spread apart a few inches. He squirmed, trying to think about anything else to distract himself from the maddening thought of the next time Beck would come to him.

After a while his erection subsided, not giving in but allowing itself to be shoved down in importance in his brain. He was slowly losing his mind, caught between hating the man and wanting to climb him like a tree, and Peter was Fed Up With This Shit. He was a superhero, damnit!

As if Peter has summoned him through sheer sexual frustration, the man himself materialized out of the mists that perpetually surrounded Peter. Peter started, jumping as much as he was able. He eyed the man, looking him up and down.

Beck smiled at him and to Peter’s surprise, it was warm, a kind smile that reached his eyes. He looked genuinely happy to see Peter. "Honey, I'm home." Peter gave in to the impulse to roll his eyes, still not sure the man was there.

"You do realize I'm not married to you? And if this-" he nodded to the blackness and mists that surrounded them "-is home, then you're even more fucked up than I realized." The smile wasn't so kind anymore. Peter gulped. Taunting the man who strapped him to a table and demonstrated a willingness to inflect every kind of mental torture he could find? Maybe not the best idea.

The man didn't respond, however, and made a complicated hand gesture to dissolve the hologram suit. His new appearance was much plainer than the flashy suit, just a thin t-shirt and jeans. He held a small black box in one hand. Peter eyed the box warily, confident he wouldn't like whatever was inside.

Beck walked around him once, inspecting him like a prized stallion. Peter squirmed. He was getting aroused at the feeling of eyes on him and the disgust he felt did nothing to stop his body’s response. Beck took it in stride, refraining from commenting on the now-straining erection Peter's pants did nothing to hide.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Peter bit out through clenched teeth.

"Come on Peter, you're still pretending not to be a little curious as to why I'm here?" Peter shook his head. His voice would come out as a squeak if he spoke. "Well, aside from the gloating, of course. Did you know I got the key to the city of New York today? They wanted to personally thank me for dealing with the menace that is Spider-Man. I told them I had it _well in hand_." He clasped Peter’s thigh as he spoke, squeezing before letting go. Peter nearly keened at the touch, so close to where he needed it but not enough by far.

"Fuck you. Let me go and you'll find out what a menace I can really be." Mysterio laughed at that, throwing his head back.

"Oh no, not right now, but maybe later. Actually, I'm here to bring you a present." Peter didn't like the sound of that _at all_.

Beck lifted the box he still held in his hand. "Do you remember what I promised, the first time I came to you?" He said a lot that night, but Peter knew immediately what he meant and he was right, he didn't like it _one bit_. Never mind his hips trying to thrust up at the words, needing any kind of friction he could get on his not at all diminished erection. "Ah, yes, I thought so." Beck pulled the lid off the box and removed a red and blue plug, covered with a spiderweb design – it also came with a separate remote.

"What. What is that?" Peter hated this already. When Beck placed one hand in his hair and forced him to look the other man in the eye, he leaned into the touch, panting. "You can't, come on, don't do this."

"I think you know exactly what it is, Peter, and you know I _can_ do this. I _own_ you, fully and completely. The faster you accept that, the easier this is." He stood close; Peter could lift his head an inch and kiss him. Not that he thought of that. Nope. He was, uh, thinking about head-butting him. Yeah. 

By the time Peter realized he _could_ head-butt the other man, Beck was out of range. He now stood beside Peter, near his midriff.

"I have to admit, I didn't plan this but I saw the toy and thought of you. There are a lot of superhero toys out there, some more ridiculous than others, but you inspire a lot of people. Everyone knows what a needy little slut you are, begging for it. There are all sorts of fun toys with your branding all over them." He chuckled. "You really should get a handle on your copyright, people are making millions off you." Peter pointedly glared at his bound wrists and ankles, and Beck shrugged. "Or not, your choice." 

He turned the toy over in his hands, inspecting it. Peter noted with mild relief that it was a modestly sized plug with a flared base to keep it in place. He wouldn't put it past Beck to shove something way too big inside him. A small voice in the back of Peter's head whispered ‘ _he already did and you **loved** it’_ but he ignored it. 

Once he looked the toy over and made sure it was to his satisfaction, Beck nodded once. His fingers curled around the top of Peter's soft pants, and he tugged them down revealing unblemished skin. Peter appreciated his healing factor, but found it frustrating that marks didn't stay on his skin. Well, if he ever had sex with someone whose marks he wanted on his skin, he amended to himself. He was _in no way sad_ the bruises on his hips faded minutes after Beck came to him. He _wasn't_. 

With the removal of the pants from his hips, freeing his erection to bob against his stomach. Beck paid it no mind. He tugged the pants around Peter's knees, tangled since the leg restraints still held his legs down. Peter waited expectantly, but Beck didn't remove the straps at his ankles. He got out lube and slicked the toy and one of his fingers, ostensibly paying no attention to Peter at all. 

Understanding dawned, and Peter wriggled again, more forcefully this time. “Oh come on! You’re not even going to untie my legs before you put that-“ He broke off in the middle of the sentence, either unwilling or unable to finish it. “You have to untie my legs, it won’t work.” Beck finished the prep on himself and the toy and glanced at Peter.

“Not kidding, and yes, it will.” Peter spluttered and Beck took the opportunity to reach his slick hand down, forcing Peter’s thighs apart. They only parted about an inch. Peter tried to crush Beck’s hand with his knees but because he was so weak he couldn’t do much more than protest verbally.

Teasingly, Beck brought his hand slowly up Peter’s thigh, trailing stickiness as he went. Peter whined when he got close to the unflagging erection bobbing at the juncture of his hips. Peter thrust mindlessly, and Beck seized the opportunity.

The first touch to his hole made Peter cry out, legs falling as open as he could get them while still being restrained. “Fuck, fuck oh god-“ Beck rubbed at him, drawing sounds out of him, and Peter couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t enough, not nearly anything close to what he needed, but he was too far gone to care about anything but getting _moremoremore_. One finger pushed slowly inside and he whimpered, unable to close his eyes but not wanting to see Beck undoing him.

After a minute or so, Beck added another finger which nearly had him begging. The slow slide and stretch was almost too much and so far from enough. Once he had adjusted to the two, Beck transferred the toy from his other hand, and it slid inside Peter almost without resistance. Retrieving his hands, Beck studied Peter as he lay there panting.

Peter knew he was bright red, and his hips were making small movements, jerking forward and backward in an attempt to get any kind of friction on his dick. The plug was inside him and now he realized his gratitude at the smallish size of the toy had been misplaced. With his legs still together and the plug pushed on his prostate from the inside. It was just enough that he needed more, but it wouldn't build to the point where he could come. If the plug was bigger, he could maybe contort himself in order and some of the pressure.

“Please, I can’t. Oh please, fuck me, I need more. I can’t stay like this, Beck, come on, you cannot leave me here like this.” He knew it was wrong, and he’d hate himself as soon as it was over, but this was some of the most exquisite torture he’d faced and Peter was not above begging. The look on Beck’s face wasn’t cool and unaffected, however, he had a hungry look in his eyes. Peter knew he could leverage that. “Ah- I, I need it. I need you.” He wasn’t happy about it, but he knew what would get the most reaction from the other man. Beck wanted to draw it out, to make Peter squirm, but if he could taunt the man into fucking him now, it would be over that much sooner. “Please, I need your cock inside of me, this isn’t enough. You feel so good, I can’t, I’m gonna die without it- _please._ ”

His begging did _something_ , and Beck closed his eyes momentarily. Peter held his breath.

“No.” He flinched at the heavy tone. “I have _important_ things to do, a world to save, yadda yadda.” Anger and arousal warred in his voice, Peter could tell, but anger won out for the moment. _Shit_. “I am leaving to attend to things actually _worth_ my attention, and once I am done, however long it takes, I will come back and fuck you until I think you’ve had enough.” Peter panted, unable to believe what he was hearing.

With two hand motions, Mysterio was back, flowing cape and everything, and Peter closed his eyes. He knew he’d lost the battle, Beck hadn’t broken and was now annoyed enough to draw it out that much longer. The man started to walk away from him but stopped before getting more than a few steps.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached out, and Peter saw the remote from before in his hand, like a car clicker. He pushed the button twice.

It wasn’t so much any coherent thought as it was a wordless wail that escaped Peter’s lips as he writhed and struggled to regain any semblance of control as the toy buzzed to life inside of him. The vibrations were uneven, and Peter was surprised his vision didn’t desert him completely. He tried and failed to catch his breath, letting his head flop back while he tried to ignore the pleasure shooting up his spine.

He didn’t notice when Beck left. Only after Peter reached a kind of plateau was he able to take in any of his surroundings to realize he was left in the misty darkness, and Beck was nowhere to be seen. Without any way of telling how long it had been, Peter was stuck waiting while the vibrator ran through what seemed like an endless loop of different settings. It would go nearly silent, gently buzzing against his skin and would then ratchet up into more powerful waves that threatened to overthrow the tenuous grip he had on his sanity.

After an intermittent length of time, Peter realized Beck definitely wouldn’t be back in ten minutes. He didn’t know how long it had been, but it felt like a while. He was left to wonder dazedly how long Beck would take.

Peter started counting as a way to distract himself from the feeling in his ass, and to keep some semblance of time. He got to 4,000 before a new vibration setting made him lose count and started again from zero. He got to 10,000 and gave up counting.

When Peter was left to his own devices that always spelled trouble. He had spent a while when he was first there shouting at nothing, mocking the other man, but gave up once he realized it wasn’t doing anything but making his voice hoarse. But now his anger and frustration was renewed, and he wanted to get under the other man’s skin.

“Come on Beck, where are you? What are you waiting for? Come fuck me, _old man_ , or are you afraid you can't get it up? I bet you’re not doing anything important, you fuckwad, you’re just pretending to be important because you can’t make anyone else pay attention to you!” Peter continued yelling at the mists, venting his frustration with Beck and with the situation until his voice threatened to give out. After petering out, he let himself zone out, stuck in the limbo of waiting and not wanting the other man to ever come back.

Some indeterminate period of time later, Beck finally appeared. He still wore his Mysterio outfit, but there was a tightness in his face that was new. 

“You have been a Very. Bad. Boy.” He punctuated his words with action, taking step after step towards Peter until he was directly beside him, glaring down at him. “I had things to do, I was supposed to get the key to the city in Trenton and why the hell anyone actually _wants_ to be in New Jersey is beyond me, but I was hoping to get a full set for every capital. But _you_. You’ve been yelling and waiting here all deliciously fuckable and I ended up leaving early and telling them I had a heroic emergency somewhere else.” He smirked. “Well, I guess that isn’t _technically_ inaccurate, but I’d definitely argue that anything about _you_ is heroic.” He was coiled with tension, and when he gestured to rid himself of the Mysterio getup, Peter gasped when he saw the real state of the other man.

Beck pulled off his shirt as he walked towards Peter, and his erection tented the front of his jeans. He pressed one palm against himself, rubbing as he glared at Peter. Peter gulped. The lines of the man’s body sent a lot of messages, and all of it promised he’d be fucked _good_ and _hard_ and _very soon_.

With two more gestures, Peter’s legs were free, and he gasped, drawing his knees up. The motion jostled the plug inside him in a way he wasn’t able to achieve previously, and he inhaled sharply, eyes rolling back into his head. Beck wasn’t going to let him off that easily, though, and swung himself onto the bed between Peter’s legs. He knelt, staring at Peter, and a wicked grin crept along his face.

“Damn, look at you. You look, well, you look really fucked out.” He pushed Peter’s legs apart, settling himself between them. He looked at the plug, visible between Peter’s cheeks, and reached towards it. With one finger he pushed it deeper, almost gently. Peter keened and jerked forward with his whole body. His arms were still strapped down firmly, and he twisted in the restraints, trying to get something into words.

 _“Fuck_. I- you- I can’t- you have to-ah, ah, ah-“ Peter was babbling and nothing that came out of his mouth could remotely be called a sentence, but Beck understood what he meant. He pushed at the plug, teasing, and then pulled firmly. It caught slightly and Peter whined as it finally slipped free, feeling uncomfortably open. Peter’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of a zipper and clothes rustling, and he wondered when he closed them. He got a glimpse of Beck rolling on a condom lightning fast, and then Beck was sliding home.

Peter absently worried about permanent hearing damage as they both screamed in unison, but then he was being fucked hard and everything faded from his mind. Finally, _finally_ he had what he _needed_ , something he was uncomfortably addicted to.

Beck’s dick was thick and long, and when he thrust forward fully, Peter felt the slick slide and the press of nearly too much inside of him. He realized he was talking, little nonsense fragments that were just ‘please’ and ‘more’ repeated with little variety.

It had been drawn out too long for either of them to last any significant length of time, but Peter was still shocked when Beck stuttered, thrusting deep inside of him. One of his hands came down Peter’s torso, and all it took was one, two, three tugs and Peter whited out, coming so hard he forgot how to breathe. He panted, trying to come back down to himself, and felt a brief moment of thanks for his strength as Beck collapsed on top of him, crushing him slightly and making no effort to move. They both drifted for a while.

A few minutes later, Peter was mostly back down from the heights he’d been at, and Beck got himself together enough to pull out and tie off the condom before flopping down next to Peter on the bed. Peter winced at the feeling of emptiness but didn’t say anything out loud. He didn’t want to give the other man any other ideas.

Sometime after that Beck was finally able to rouse himself out of the half-asleep stupor that he’d fallen into, and rolled gracelessly off the bed, dropping to the floor before righting himself and reaching for his discarded pants. Peter took the opportunity to move his sore and achy legs, bending his knees as much as he could before they were forcibly straightened yet again.

With a large yawn, Beck did up his jeans, hair mussed and eyes unguarded. He looked Peter over appraisingly and Peter tensed, unsure what he was being appraised for. He looked himself up and down and took in the mess on his stomach, the stickiness covering most of his groin, his ass, and a good portion of his thighs, and the way he was still feeling loose and wet. Peter must have looked like a fucked-out wreck. Beck didn’t comment, however, and Peter guessed Beck liked how he looked. Or maybe it was the post-orgasm drowsiness. Either way, Peter would take it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked anyone that hard in my life.” Beck’s voice was rough, raw, like he’d gargled with gravel. Peter had to guess his own voice would be a hundred times worse, if he tried speaking right now. “You’re- you affect me kid, more than I wanted. I think I’ve gotten a taste for you.” Peter’s heart sped up, and he opened his eyes to fully take in the other man. He looked wary, and tired, and like he was considering something. Peter wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew it could be a big step towards getting free. He tried to look as innocent and deserving of help as much as anyone could while still mostly naked and covered with his own come.

Beck sighed, covering his face with a hand. “I- ugh. I want you, all the time, and it’s _frustratingly_ good every time I get you.” Peter nodded, not trusting his voice. It was exceptionally good sex, something he loathed to admit to himself.

Beck sighed again and made a complicated motion with his hands. The restraints around Peter’s wrists sprang open. He wasn’t sure why he got his arms now, but pulled them towards himself slowly, wincing at the pins and needles. Beck reached out but stopped before touching his skin.

Peter didn't know what was being offered, but he felt gross and sticky and wanted to fix it while he had the chance. He pulled off the shirt that was rucked up past his armpits, and wiped off most of the mess on his chest with it before starting on his thighs.

With the now very soiled shirt, he got most of the stickiness off, and he felt a lot better. Beck made no move to stop him. When Peter finished up and looked questioningly at Beck, the older man groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine. This is going to bite me in the ass, but _fine_. I need more of you.” Peter blinked, not understanding. 

Beck turned and started walking away from him. “Come on, follow me.” Peter scrambled to pull up the soft sleep pants he was still tangled in, and jump off the bed. It was the first time he’d been allowed to stand on his own two feet in far too long, and he wobbled before straightening. Beck was almost out of the radius the mist let him see, and he hastened to catch up. With Beck leading, he followed through the endless mists, hoping there wasn’t anyone else there to see him in his disheveled state. Beck hadn’t made the moves to put his fake suit back on, so Peter took that as a positive sign.

“Don’t think about running because I can and will make your life a living nightmare.” The other man’s tone was flat, and Peter couldn’t see his face. He knew running would only lead to more of the bad holograms, and he was more than willing to not try to escape right now if it meant he’d get more time without having to deal with those. Speaking of-

“Hey,” His voice was even worse than he expected, and that was something. Oh yeah, he screamed himself hoarse _before_ Beck fucked him, that might be why. “Hey, wait up. I don’t, I can’t, um.” He reached forward and took Beck’s hand, reassuring himself that the man was really there and not just one more hologram. Peter knew if he escaped, he’d be checking to make sure people were real for a very, _very_ long time. The hand in his was warm and sturdy, and some part of him quieted at the feeling.

Beck looked down at their joined hands, and Peter blushed. It was ridiculous to blush at _holding hands_ after what the two of them did, but he couldn’t help it. “I- it helps. With the- with knowing you’re real.” Beck nodded and let him keep the hold on his hand. He followed the man down some path only he could divine from the swirling mists, and they eventually came to a stop. Peter wasn’t sure where they were, or why they’d stopped, but he remained silent. Beck looked around, appraising something Peter couldn’t see, and nodded once.

“EDITH, close and lock the door. Only respond to commands from my voice, from this point forward.” Peter flinched, realizing that he could have commanded EDITH to let him escape, had he known. But he hadn’t thought that would ever be a possibility, so he didn’t try. He felt like an idiot.

One more gesture from Beck and the mist faded away, leaving a simple room with one large bed pushed against a wall. The holograms were gone, and Peter saw walls clearly for the first time in days. He nearly cried. Walking slowly so Beck could have stopped him if he wanted to, Peter moved towards one wall and pressed a hand against it. He felt the sturdy texture and had to fight the urge to collapse where he stood. It was real. It was really there.

Beck made his way to the bed and sat heavily. He pulled the blankets down and sat back, looking at Peter. “The walls are six inches of reinforced vibranium, and the door is even more reinforced. There’s no way you can possibly escape, and EDITH will tranq you if you try. Actually, yeah. EDITH, if Peter tries to escape, to cause me bodily harm, or do anything that would lead to either of those things, tranquilize him with the spiderman sedatives.” Peter nodded, understanding the implicit trust. He wasn’t safe, but this was a hell of a lot more than he had previously. And he could work on getting out after he slept. 

All at once, everything caught up with him and he swayed where he stood. With five steps to the bed, he was unconscious before he hit the mattress. He didn’t feel Beck pull the blankets up around him, or the press of a body behind him, spooning him. But he slept, and he knew this wasn’t the end – it was just a beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Peter, Carol Danvers, and Fury need a support group for people that have to constantly verify that everything their eyes are telling them is actually true. Even with just the events of the movie, I feel like Peter is gonna have major PTSD and constantly be asking everyone to confirm who they say they are for a long, long time to come. 
> 
> If you like my writing, please consider buying me a coffee to let me know! :) https://ko-fi.com/sweetesthoney
> 
> I help run a discord dedicated to MCU rarepairs and thirst (lol), and everyone is welcome! Please feel free to join us: https://discord.gg/uTpcTaW


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